Life As We Know It
by ravenandbb4ever
Summary: After Raven's death Beast Boy discovers her journal that tells them the story of their lives. From their childhood days to their last few moments together.
1. Chapter 1

**I don't own the Teen Titans.**

Its kind of funny how this happened. How I ended up with the girl that was my polar opposite, how I hated her, how I loved her, how I lived my life with her, and how I wish that she wasn't gone.

Now as I watch people in black go by, people that pretend that they knew her, I hold in my hands the last thing that her living skin touched. Oh, how I wish that I could have been there as she took her last breaths. I hate how our lives have ended, how weak I feel in this moment. Not even strong enough to walk to my love's casket, yet just strong enough to fully understand and feel the pain. But no matter how much I hate it in this moment, I can't bring myself to regret a single moment of it. Not a single one.

Because if it had to end like this, then I am glad that she ended up with me. No matter how much it does not make sense on paper, no matter how much we argued. Because for 71 years, she was mine, but those years flew by and now I am alone.

Someone comes behind my wheelchair and wheels me to the open coffin. I don't look back to see who it is, though I have a pretty good idea. For all that I can think about is the cold empty body that lies before me. They said that they could make her look peaceful, like she did when she was alive. Well they knew nothing about her because there was not a peaceful cell in her body.

"Grandpa?" I turn to my left and see a middle age man staring back at me. "Grandpa, it's time for them to bury her. I know it's hard but you have got to let go of her hand."

As I look at him with tears in my eyes, I know that he understands, or at least he thinks that he does. He is trying to give me any last shred of dignity I can get. There was a time that I would have been appalled at the fact that I was in a wheelchair, or the fact that I had almost no more control over my own body, but I couldn't just let go of her. She was my everything, and darn it! I wasn't going to leave quietly just so that I wouldn't cause a scene.

"I can't just leave her! I can't, I won't! This is the last time that I will ever get to feel her touch, no matter how cold it is! This is the last time that I will ever get to see, with these failing eyes, her ivory skin. And I won't just leave her so that I won't cause a scene in front of people that never even knew her! She was mine, she was my everything, and now she is gone! So, no, I won't just let go, I will hold her hand till the coffin closes. I will hold her hand through the ceremony, and I will be the last thing that those deaf ears will ever hear, and I will be the last thing that those blind eyes will see! Because I wasn't there when they could hear and see for the last time, I wasn't there and by doing that I was breaking a promise that I made years ago. So I will fulfill it now, even though it is to late."

The crowd was staring at me now but all I could see was her. I couldn't see my grandson take his seat behind me and prepared to listen to the memorial. I didn't hear the priest as he spoke of the life of the girl that I loved. And as they closed the lid of the casket I whispered the words that she knew, forever, to be true. "I love you, Raven."

That night after all the visitors had left and the nurses had put me to bed, I took the time to look at the last thing that my wife had touched. As of typical of my wife, it was a book. A book that I had seen on countless occasions but never thought to ask her about.

I run my hand over the black letter casing and recognize the silver language along the side. Even though I have been studying Azarathian for years I haven't quite got the handle of it due to my still lacking attention span. So it was a struggle to understand the offending lettering.

'The Story of Us'

When I opened the book I was surprised to find it written in English, as Raven hardly ever wrote or read anything in that language. Even then, it was definitely her hand writing and the small, neat, yet childish lettering stated the date in which it was written, October 13th, 1995.

That was before I met her, she would have been five years old when this was written.

After being married to her for decades, I haven't yet heard the full story of her childhood, in till this day. The day of her funeral.

AN: So this is going to be the retelling of their lives in no ones point of view. So the next chapter the actual reading of the book will begin.


	2. Chapter 2

**I don't own the Teen Titans.**

_The Story of Us_

October 13, 1995

Today I turned five years old. It also happens to be the day that I met my mother for the first time. In the books that I read Mothers smile, bake you cookies, and give you hugs. My mother did none of these things. I guess it was to be expected as I have never seen any of these things with my own two eyes. The only experience I have with anything heart warming was from my books.

The start of my day was normal as it was routine. I woke up at 5:30, showered, dressed, spent 2 hours studying Latin, got in trouble for smiling at one of the monks, and meditated till the late afternoon. By the time my birthday was even mention it was 3 o'clock in the afternoon. Azar, my mentor and only friend pulled my aside after my scheduled herbal tea.

"I would just like to say, Happy Birthday Rachel. As promised you will be allowed to see your mother today. But first we must go over the ground rules, can you tell me what those ground rules are Rachel?

In my scripted monotone I told the rules that I had followed since my infancy. The rules that had molded me into the monotone child prodigy that I am. "Yes Azar, I will. The rules are no smiling, no laughing, no physical contact, no crying, no emotion of any kind."

"That's perfect, Rachel. While you are here I have something for you. You live a tough life with no place to vent or put your actual thoughts and feelings, however small they are. I think that you have control enough of your emotions to have this."

She handed me a medium size book but when I opened it the pages were completely white and blank. I am writing in you now. Azar said that I might need a friend to get through my life. That I might need this book to gather my thoughts. She said that my amazing writing ability should be put to good use.

But that isn't what is important. Yes, I had said the rules, was prepared for an emotionless meeting. I guess that just this once, I expected to be loved, to be held in someones arms and know that someone in Azarath actually cares for me and that it will never be broken. I guess that is the bad thing about being an empath when you are me. When I walk by other children on the street all I feel from them is fear, when I look into the monks eyes all I feel is a sense of dread, and all that I feel from my mentor is sadness.

The first time that I saw my mother was through the glass of my bedroom window. She was tall and beautiful with long purple hair and a thin face. When I finally heard the knock on my bedroom door I had prepared myself fully for whatever the outcome. At least that is what I had thought.

When I finally looked into my mother's purple eyes she burst into tears. Like she was disgusted by my presence and I made her remember a great pain. Two seconds after she had burst into tears some of the monks came in and dragged her away, but it was to late. I had felt what she felt. It was so strong that I was fighting the urge to get sick. I had been feeling similar feelings from people for years, but tonight I would know why I was treated so differently.

Tonight I did something that I have never even dreamed of before. I used my powers. That was the most important of the unspoken rules. My powers caused people's fears to escalate and in order to use them, I had to do the unthinkable. I had to feel. Not someone's else's emotions, but my own. Which wasn't an issue as I was mad. I was mad that no one ever told me anything. I was mad that I wan't allowed to play and instead studied Latin in a dark room.

I launched myself of the floor and teleported to Azar's room. "WHAT ARE YOU KEEPING FROM ME! WHY DOES MY MOTHER HATE THE VERY IDEA OF ME! WHY AM I THE WAY THAT I AM! JUST TELL ME! IF I AM OLD ENOUGH STOP ACTING LIKE A CHILD THAN I AM OLD ENOUGH TO KNOW THE FREAKING TRUTH!"

I don't remember anything after that. Azar told me that my eyes doubled and turned red and I grew 5 feet instantaneously. I wrecked about half the temple before they were able to neutralize me. A heavy price to pay for the truth, even though I did get it. I now know why I am not supposed to feel but now that I know I can't stop feeling one emotion. Fear. Even now as I sit in my bedroom writing to you, I am scared. I can't face this destiny, at least not yet.

p.s. In my dreams I am called Raven, and in my dreams I am loved.

October 13th, 2000

I found this book today. Funny how I don't remember writing in it when I was five but I remember every other detail of that day. And now here I am, five years later in pretty much in the exact same situation. But when I reread the post from when I was five I was surprised by how much emotion I had shown through these pages. back then I was blissfully unaware, a child, that needed to be taught the harsh realities of the world. I wish that I could go back and tell myself that dreaming and having wishes is pointless, that nobody will ever love me or call me Raven. And that those truths are fine, because experiencing those things is fruitless and you don't need them.

As a matter of fact this book is a waste of time. Azar was wrong, I don't need a friend or a place to vent. What I need is to prepare myself in any way that I possibly can. Because my father isn't going to wait around for me to have a childhood, have fun, or feel emotions.

I have to get back to meditating.

p.s. No one will ever call me Raven or have friends and that is okay. That is okay, it is going to be okay.


End file.
